


Spring's Breeze

by Ruunkur



Series: Seasons of What Ifs [2]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Depression warning, Postpartum Depression, You are welcome to pry my trans headcanons out of my cold dead trans hands, no beta we die like Glenn, trans felix, very bad postpartum depression that results in bad ideas that are not followed through on
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-20
Updated: 2020-02-20
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:07:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22822270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ruunkur/pseuds/Ruunkur
Summary: Spring rolls in and, with it, brings discussions of family.In which Felix does not keep his child.
Series: Seasons of What Ifs [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1640443
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9





	Spring's Breeze

**Author's Note:**

> This is one of THREE alt endings to "Winter's Delight".
> 
> You will need to read Winter's Delight in order for this to make sense.
> 
> I'm not sure _how_ to tag some of this, sooo... please pay attention to those warnings. If you got a better way to tag that, let me know.

“Mom, I need help with this question!”

Felix rubbed his eyes as the teenager’s voice rang through the house, turning over in his bed and tugging the blanket over himself. Even over spring break, Sylvie was staying on her studies, claiming something that he hadn’t bothered to listen to.

“People are still sleeping, dear, no need to shout through the house.” Ingrid’s voice was at least softer, but she was standing outside the guest bedroom, intruding on Felix’s peace.

He sighed and sat up, raising a hand to run it through his hair.

“But, moooooom, I need help now.”

“Yes, yes, I’m coming. Just, keep your voice down. It’s still early.”

Ingrid’s voice fades as she moved to the dining room, Felix shaking his head as he turned to look out the window.

Spending spring break down at his father’s old house, out of the city, had been Glenn’s idea. Something to pass the time, to give their father a going away party instead of a stuffy funeral.

With these thoughts pushed to the forefront of his mind, Felix stood and found his discarded clothes, deciding he would hunt down clean ones after a cup of coffee and a shower.

He moved out of the bedroom, heading towards the kitchen. He caught sight of Ingrid standing next to the fourteen year old, head bent over the work spread across the table.

“Ah, good morning Felix, how are you?” Ingrid asked, turning as he passed her.

Felix glanced at her, shaking his head. “It’s early and children are loud.”

Sylvie glanced at him, rolling her eyes and turning back to the project before her. “If you don’t like children so much, why bother coming?” she grumbled.

“Ah, actually!” Ingrid grinned, turning to look at Felix. “You know your family history, don’t you?”

“No better than Glenn does.” Felix glanced at Ingrid, cocking an eyebrow as her grin widened.

“Perfect, while Glenn is away for work, you can help Sylvie with the family tree project that she has to fill out! I don’t know anything about your family tree, so that-”

“No.”

“Uncle Felix doesn’t like kids. Why would he help me? Dad may have thought that this trip was a good idea, but it just means we have to deal with-”

“Sylvie!” Ingrid cut into her tirade, narrowing her eyes.

“He’s grumpy and that’s the reason he’s not married.”

Felix closed his eyes, drawing in a deep breath before letting it out and shaking his head. “That is not the reason I am not married, Sylvie. It would be wise to keep in mind that you don’t know anything about me. And we are celebrating the life of your grandfather-”

“By getting drunk and passing out on the couch?” Sylvie shot back, turning to look at Felix.

He felt pinned by the stare, staring into a reflection of his own eyes. For a moment, he debated leaving and going home, returning to work. With a huff, he moved into the kitchen, pouring himself coffee.

“You need help with a family tree project? Very well, I will give you what knowledge I can offer of my side of the family. Ingrid, a word?” Felix gestured towards the back door with his cup of coffee, watching his friend’s shoulders slump.

She stepped around the table, following Felix through the family room and out the back door. He shut it behind him, slumping against the glass.

“What do you think you’re doing, Ingrid?”

Ingrid raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms over her chest. “You know she thinks you hate her? Also, she wants to know why her hair’s red and not dark like her father’s. They did the punnet squares in her biology class last week and she came home crying about it.”

“Tell her she’s adopted. She’s old enough to know.”

Ingrid stared at Felix, shaking her head in frustration. “I told her she must have gotten it from her father’s side. Maybe a recessive trait or something of the like.”

“I did not ask you to adopt her just so she could be pawned back off on me.”

Ingrid opened her mouth, her eyes wide. “Felix!”

“She looks… so much like Sylvain.” Felix closed his eyes, reaching up and pinching the bridge of his nose. It’s like staring into a god damned mirror and seeing him, but… with my eyes. She’s…”

_Felix paced in the apartment, holding the phone to his ear. The ringing cut off, leaving him with the voicemail and, in frustration, he hung up, dropping the phone on the couch. Crying accompanied the silence, Felix lifting his head as he stared at the closed room._

_The incessant crying drained him, each moment adding another minute of time onto the never ending headache._

_With a frustrated snarl, he picked up his phone again, dialing Ingrid’s number once more. He was thankful when she answered._

_“Felix-”_

_“Take the thing.”_

_The words were out of his mouth before he could stop himself, his pulse racing fast as he fought down the urge to scream._

_“It won’t shut up. No matter what I do. Please, Ingrid. I can’t… I can’t do this. I can’t keep her and stay sane.”_

_There was silence on the other end of the line, Ingrid letting out a sigh. “Felix…”_

_“Ingrid, I will get on my knees and beg you if I must, just… please take her. I’m…”_

_He had spoken twice to the therapist about Sylvie. The first time, it had all come crumbling down, washing him away. He refused to speak about her again, acknowledging her presence only when the therapist asked where she was._

_The last session, he had brought it up. With little prompting, he had let his frustrations seep into the session, the nights grating on his nerves. The constant attention she needed. The lack of sleep he was achieving._

_The anguish he felt at Sylvain never-_

_“Adopt Sylvie. I can’t… I’m afraid I’m going to do something to hurt her.”_

_The name tasted bitter on his tongue, like a poison he couldn’t quite get rid of, no matter how much he tried. He had given it six months and still, nothing ever happened._

_“Felix-” Ingrid began again._

_“Ingrid, please. I am begging you. I can’t-”_

_He took in a breath, forcing himself to stay sane. With a twitch, he sat back down._

_“I am afraid that I am going to do something drastic. I know Dr. Edmund said to give it some time, with hormones and everything. I just… can’t handle it. Take the thing before I hurt it.”_

_The silence lengthened, Felix sending up prayers to whoever would answer._

_“I’ll discuss the finer details with Glenn, but we can.”_

_He felt a flood of relief pass through him, his stomach settling. “Thank you, Ingrid.”_

“That night you called me, what were you going to do?” Ingrid asked, voice soft. She glanced over Felix’s shoulder, ensuring that Sylvie was still at the table, her phone playing obnoxious music she knew Felix hated.

It was loud enough to cover up their conversation.

“She… wouldn’t stop crying. I… had walked into her room. There was… a pillow and… I just wanted her to be quiet. I called you instead.”

The admission hangs between them, Felix wishing he could take it back.

Ingrid nodded, glancing away. “Perhaps it was a bad idea to try and force you two to spend time together.”

Felix grimaced, lifting his cup and taking a sip of the coffee. “I will help her with her project. What happened to Glenn anyway?”

Ingrid let out a sigh. “Work got in the way. He’ll be back by Thursday, I hope. If I run to the store, can I trust you and Sylvie to not burn the house down?”

Felix watched her, glancing over her shoulder to look at the property beyond them. He could see the next house, a good acre, maybe two, away.

“I will not burn down the house. I make no promises on the child’s behalf.”

Ingrid fixed him with a stare and Felix just shook his head, turning to head back inside. He took another sip of his coffee, wondering if he could find where Ingrid had hid the alcohol for his visit.

The music shut off as the backdoor slid open, Sylvie ducking her head closer to her work.

“If you keep straining like that, you’ll end up wearing glasses.” Felix comments, breezing past her.

Sylvie shook her head, sending her wavy red hair into her face. “Not like you care.”

“Come now, Felix was even going to make you breakfast this morning.” Ingrid’s voice drifted in, standing behind Sylvie’s chair. “I have to run to town.”

“Can I-”

“No.”

Ingrid shot Felix a look as he spoke over Sylvie, his gaze pinned on Ingrid.

“There were no discussions about breakfast being made. There is cereal and milk.”

“And I already had a bowl, so I’m not hungry anyway.” Sylvie looked up, pushing her hair out of her face. “If dad’s going to be gone until the end of the week, are you sure you can’t help me with the family tree, mom?”

“I am going to help you.” Felix turned, setting his coffee down on a space and glancing at the papers. “With the project,” he added when she gave him a blank stare.

“Just, don’t burn the house down.” Ingrid walked towards the front door, grabbing a light sweater and her keys. She fixed Felix with a glare, the man raising his own gaze to stare back at her. With a snort, Ingrid turned and left the house.

“So, this… family tree project…” Felix asked, turning to look at the teenager.

She met her gaze, cocking an eyebrow. “You’re really going to help me with it?” she asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

“I said I would. I will not go back on my word just because Ingrid is out of the house. She seems to… believe that we need to spend more time together. What do you need?” Felix asked.

“Fine, well. You must at least know about your grandparents. I have mom and her parents down. But…” Sylvie trailed off, staring down at the paper like it personally offended her. “That’s all I have.”

“And when is this project due?” Felix asked.

“Monday.”

He closed his eyes, taking in a breath before releasing it slowly. “Well, for your… father’s side, you have Glenn and your grandfather Rodrigue. And… me I suppose.”

She nodded, grabbing a sheet of scrap paper and posing her pen over it. “You wear a ring, were you married at some point? Mom got upset when I asked, but dad said that your… partner died a while ago. What was she like?”

Felix stared at the child, dropping his hands under the table as he fiddled with the band around his finger. “That… is a hard question to answer.”

“Can I at least know her name? And if you were married, how come grandpa didn’t have any photos of you two? I see the ones of mom and dad’s wedding all the time.”

“And you’re in all those photos, how delightful.”

“But you aren’t. And I don’t ever remember a time where you weren’t single. So, what happened to her?”

Felix closed his eyes, letting out a sigh. “Sylvie, there are… some answers that you-”

She jerked her head up, pinning him with a stare. “You never give answers to anything, do you? All you say is, ‘you’re too young’, ‘you wouldn’t understand’, ‘leave me alone’. Why do you even bother coming to mom and dad’s if you’re gonna act like that?”

Felix let out a sigh, shaking his head. “Very well. My husband was a man by the name of Sylvian. Shortly before you were born, I was given his remains in a box. That is the reason I don’t speak of him.”

Sylvie almost recoiled at the words, her eyes going wide. “Wait-”

He reached over, taking a spare pen and jotting down Sylvian’s name next to his with a line. He hesitated, setting it down and getting up from his chair.

“Felix-” Sylvie began, watching as the man retreated to his room. He left the door propped open, searching through the nightstand drawer before he found what he was looking for.

He returned to the kitchen table, dropping the photo album in front of her. “As for why there are no photos of us, it’s because I took them down. I didn’t want constant reminders staring me in the face.”

She glanced from him to the book, confusion crossing her face. “Did… mom and dad name me after a dead man?” she asked, voice small as she looked at the name on the paper.

“In a way, yes. Sylvain, Ingrid, myself, and Dimitri Blaiddyd were childhood friends. We had all done a stint in the military. While I had been wounded and medically discharged two years prior, Sylvain was looking at retirement. He died several days before he was meant to return home.” Felix grit his teeth as he spoke, meeting the wide eyed stare of Sylvie.

“Why… why hide it?” she asked, reaching out to take the album.

Felix put a hand on it, ensuring she couldn’t open it right away. “There… are a lot of circumstances that have brought us here. But do not think that I don’t care for you, Sylvie. You are blood and family, first and foremost.”

Sylvie stared, shaking her head. “You don’t act like it. You act like I’m the worst thing that has happened to you since… since Sylvain or whoever died.”

He let out a low hum, forcing himself to stare into Sylvie’s eyes. He was uncomfortable with what stared back.

“Maybe you were.”

She recoiled, eyes wide before she got up, running out the front door. Felix looked after her, leaning back in his chair and picking up his coffee once more. He finished it in a few short gulps, feeling heat flood through him.

He picked up his phone when it rang, barely glancing at Glenn’s number.

“What?” he demanded.

“What did you say to Sylvie?”

He frowned, glancing out the door. With a grunt, he picked himself up from his chair and turned to the kitchen, setting his cup in the sink. “We had a talk. She wanted to know about my partner. I told her a few things. We fought. She ran out the door.”

“Felix.”

“What?” he asked, hearing the edge in his brother’s voice and forcing himself to remain calm.

“Are you still attending therapy?”

“Yes, I am. What are you, my caretaker?” Felix bit the inside of his cheek as soon as the words left his mouth, letting out a huff. “I am sorry. I will apologize to Sylvie as soon as she returns. Ho-”

“Go after her, idiot.”

Felix scoffed. “Chasing after her will only-”

“She’s a lot like you. She’s going to go cry her eyes out because her uncle’s being an asshole, again. She may be stubborn and prideful, but… fuck, she’s a _kid_ , Felix. Do you remember what being a kid is like?” Glenn asked, voice softer than it had been.

“And if she does not want to hear it from me?” Felix demanded.

There was silence on the other end, Glenn breaking the silence with a low hum. “I think, if you give her a chance, she’d be a lot nicer.”

“I did not come out here to-”

“No, I suppose you didn’t want responsibility for her at all, did you?” Glenn asked, tone verging on dangerously low. “You just pawned her off on Ingrid the first chance you got, didn’t you?”

“Glenn.”

“She is your daughter, Felix. At least act-”

“Glenn, I would have killed her.”

There’s the old echo of fear as Felix breathed the comment out.

“What-”

“When I called Ingrid that night, I… I hadn’t slept in days. She… she wouldn’t stop crying. I felt dead inside. I had discussed it with Dr. Edmund at some length. When I realized I was willing to smother a _child_ for the sake of some sleep, I called Ingrid and begged her because I didn’t… I couldn’t…”

Felix drew in a shaky breath, slowly releasing it.

“I didn’t want to hurt her, Glenn. That’s why.”

The silence was tense, Felix keeping his gaze trained on the door.

“I didn’t-”

“No, you didn’t because I never said anything. I didn’t want it to be known, Glenn. That is… a very dark part of my past that I prefer not to think about. Now, is there any other dark, terrible secret you would like to pry out of me while we’re having this oh so wonderful talk?” Felix snarled.

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Felix demanded, moving to touch the photo album. He flipped it open towards the last few pages, grimacing as he saw several baby photos of Sylvie.

“Pressing you?” Glenn offered and Felix scoffed.

“Please, I wouldn’t have told you if I… didn’t want to. It’s to make a point, Glenn. You don’t know what I went through. Just like… I can’t imagine what it would have been like with Ingrid and…” He trailed off, touching one of the rare photos of him holding Sylvie, a pained smile on his face.

“Are you still there?”

“Hmm? Yes, I was just… looking at some photos.” He shut the book, turning to look at the front door. 

“Do you want us to tell her?”

Felix hesitated, chewing on the inside of his cheek until he tasted blood. “She hates me enough as it is.”

“She doesn’t hate you. She thinks you hate her existence, however.”

“She’s alive, that was the point.”

He turned his head when the door opened, watching the teenager shoot him a glance before she scurried off to her bedroom, slamming the door shut.

“Where’s the alcohol?”

Glenn let out a sigh. “I thought you were trying to cut back?”

“I am. I have been. Where did Ingrid hide the rest of it?”

“I’m not telling you. Talk to Sylvie, without either of you blowing up at each other. At least, try. I know how much she looks like Sylvain, Felix.”

“I told her that you named her after him.”

Glenn hummed and Felix could imagine him running a hand through his hair. “Because he was a childhood friend of yourself and Ingrid, correct? Well, it’s not… wrong. But, really, she is going to figure it out on her own, one way or another. She acts so much like you.”

“She could have…” Felix trailed off, shaking his head. “Do you remember how Sylvain was during school?”

“Ah, yes. And we all thought he’d have more kids than he did.”

“He used protection.”

“Because you forced it down his throat.”

“I did-” Felix choked off the retort as he snorted in laughter, Glenn’s own laughter infectious enough. “Fine, I concede. She could have taken after him.”

“Not with her big, scary, Uncle Felix to glare at any and all of the boys in town.” Glenn cackled, Felix pulling the phone away from his ear.

When silence returned, Felix glanced at the photo album once more and opened it to flip through. In the front were a few childhood pictures of himself in dresses, though most were dirty and torn, a look of disgust on his face. Few pictures remained until he hit nineteen, Sylvain showing up in all of them until they stopped, ending with Felix and the baby.

“You still there?”

“Mmm, I am. House is still standing as well, for the record.”

“So, go talk to Sylvie.”

Felix paused, glancing at the door. Music was spilling out from the room and he wanted to recoil, hide back in his room after he found the alcohol.

“Shouldn’t you and Ingrid start that conversation?” he asked, keeping his voice low.

“If you want us to, but we will tell her everything. If you do it, it can be at your own pace.”

“Everything.”

“Okay, not that… last part that you told me, but nearly everything.”

Felix grunted, closing his eyes. “Fine. Fine, if this is… what will help.”

“Felix-”

“I have to go, goodbye, Glenn.” Felix hung up his phone, glancing towards the door. He looked back at the photo album, flipping open to the last page and taking out two photos. He flipped towards the middle, swiping one of Sylvain laughing before he headed to the bedroom door.

“Sylvie?”

He raised his hand, resting his knuckles against the wood. The response to his question was for the girl to raise the volume of her music, though he knew she could still hear him.

“I wanted… to apologize.”

The music softened and Felix took a step back, shifting his grip on the photos in his hand. They were fragile, yellowed with age from the past thirteen years, the one of Sylvain nearly fifteen years old at this point.

“You don’t usually apologize.”

Her voice was right next to the door, Felix struggling to swallow back the urge to vomit.

“I know. I just…” He closed his eyes, drawing in a breath. “I was wrong to have yelled at you. There are… things I have struggled to accept over the years and-”

“And my presence is one of them.”

Felix nearly flinched under the words, taking a step back from the door. “In a manner of speaking, yes. It… is by no fault of your own. You just…” He wanted to shrink back, to hide from the presence of the truth in front of him. “Have you ever seen baby pictures of yourself? Before you hit about one?”

The pause lengthened, Sylvie finally cracking the door open. “No, mom… said they got lost. Why?” One eye peered out at him, her head tilting to the side.

“It’s… here.” Felix held out the photos, keeping the one of Sylvain close to him. “I destroyed most of the photos myself.”

Sylvie looked from him to the offered photos, her frown deepening. “Why would you do that? They weren’t yours to destroy. They-”

“You were adopted.”

Sylvie glanced up at him, her confusion morphing into anger. “Is that why you hate me? Because I’m not your blood relative or anything? And if they adopted me, why the hell would they name me after _your_ dead husband?”

“Because I gave birth to you!” Felix snapped, taking a step back as Sylvie recoiled from him. She looked down at the pictures again, glancing back up at Felix’s face before looking back down.

“But…”

“Sylvain was on his last tour, fifteen years ago. It was supposed to be a year. Six months into it, he had holiday leave. He visited, we… had sex. I got pregnant-”

“But you’re a guy.”

“I was born… ugh, I was born… not a guy. I’m trans.” Felix wrinkled his nose at the statement, keeping his gaze locked on Sylvie. “Sylvain was supposed to return in six months. I kept it… a surprise, for him. He was going to be so thrilled.”

“But?” Sylvie asked, her voice losing all the heat it had earlier. She looked small, framed by the doorway and her hair.

“He came back in a box. There wasn’t… they couldn’t find…” Felix trailed off, forcing down the urge to cry. “They cremated him and brought him home. After you were born, I tried my best. But… it was not good enough. You have a better life with Ingrid and Glenn.”

Sylvie stared at him, tears forming in her eyes. “And you just… decided now was a great time to tell me?” she demanded, her voice wavering in frustration.

“No. It’s never a good time to tell anyone anything.” Felix shifted from foot to foot, looking at the last picture in his hand. “This is Sylvain.”

He held the picture out, the teenager hesitating before she snatched it out of his hand to bring it closer to her face.

“He… has red hair.”

“You look a lot like him.”

Felix nearly choked on the words, glancing away from Sylvie. The silence lengthened between them and, when he looked up, he could see Sylvie glaring at him.

“Did you not want me because I look like him?” Sylvie whispered, shrinking back when Felix looked at her, his eyes widening.

“No, I…” Felix floundered for words, taking a step back from the door. “I didn’t…”

The six months of near sleepless nights. Six months of constant crying. Six months of no peace. Six months of pain and heartache.

“I would have been a terrible parent.”

“You didn’t even try!” Sylvie snapped. “You pawned me off like… like some animal to your brother! Why did you even bother telling me? I hate you!”

Felix winced as the door was slammed in his face, turning and walking towards the front door. He glanced over his shoulder, stepping outside and shutting the door behind him.

*~*~*~*~*

“Felix?”

The man turned his head when he heard the voice, watching the face of the teenager appear out of the door. He nodded at her, turning his gaze back to the sunset.

The last two days had been awkward around the house, Ingrid getting a run down of The Conversation, as Felix had dubbed it.

“Yes?” he asked upon realizing she had no intention of following up if he didn’t respond.

Sylvie shifted, brushing hair out of her face. “I… talked to mom, about what you said. Uhm, some of it anyway. She… said you had a hard time with everything. And with her and dad not able to…” she trailed off, looking down.

“They aren’t able to conceive,” Felix finished, “and they were thrilled to have you in their lives. They did a wonderful job raising you.”

“Do you… ever regret your choice?” Sylvie asked, voice small.

Felix shifted, glancing from her to the view in front of him. “Some days are… harder than others. But, I get to see you fairly often, which is… good enough for me.”

Sylvie shifted, a frown pulling her mouth down. “What…”

Felix lifted his hand, running it across his face. “Life has a way of throwing us unexpected circumstances. This… is one such thing. I don’t regret getting you a better life. I would have _regretted_ it more if I never got to see you grow up. I have… many regrets, but this is one thing I don’t regret. You are… happy, are you not?”

She nodded, eyes wide and Felix shifted in his chair. “Then I am glad you are happy. I just… want to know you better.”

Felix watched her shift, coming out of the doorway and onto the porch.

“We can do that. Get to know each other better,” Felix murmured, voice soft.

She offered him a smile, sitting on the steps of the porch. The sunset began in earnest, Felix lifting his gaze to the sky, searching for the first star he would see that night.

**Author's Note:**

> TBH, this is sort of... a vent on how I felt about my sister's kids when I was a teenager and some other. BS.
> 
> So, there is that.


End file.
